K9's Plunnie Farm
by Kira Kyuu
Summary: Collection of ideas/drabbles that are not in a storyline.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Figured I'd stick up some of the little plunnies that sprout in my mind. Most of them are HP related at least. This first one is kindasortavaguely HP/Doctor Who.**

**Warnings: Spoilers. . . femHarry Potter. . . . Not much else, really.**

**Rose Marian Potter – The Big Bad Wolf**

Rose Marian Potter was often thought of as wrong by those around her, even the Wizards. It wasn't that she _looked_ wrong, no. In fact, she looked quite normal, having slightly messy dark brown hair and vibrant green eyes, a soft button nose, and pouty lips.

No, something just told them she belonged somewhere Else. Nonetheless, she was a perfectly normal witch. . . if you discounted her surviving the Killing Curse, of course. She had a fiery, headstrong personality, charming when necessary, something that many said came from her dear mother. She was always on time and never got lost – provided that she had been somewhere before.

And Rose always persevered. No matter the challenges, the 'Gryffindor Golden Girl' always came out on top, seemingly unscathed in both mind and body. A possessed professor? Taken care of. A life-giving stone? Saved, to be destroyed. A basilisk and a memory in a book? Disposed of, though she wished she could have saved the poor snake. A falsely accused man and a hippogriff? Rescued and set free, with a bit of time to spare.

Truth be told, however. . . Rose felt like she had died already. The strangulation from Voldemort-Quirrel. The poison of the basilisk – no matter that the dear phoenix had cried for her. It hurt and pained her every night, every time she closed her eyes. It wasn't often, but when she should have died, she didn't; no, instead, it haunted her mind.

RMP – tBBB

Rose always did have a fondness for pretty things. As such, when Cedric Diggory had asked her to the Yule Ball in her fourth year, despite being a fellow champion, she had accepted. She danced, unconsciously longing for different music, different men, a different time, and a different place, all so very far away.

It was early 1995 when Bartemius Crouch Junior first saw the big Bad Wolf. The girl that he had been so eager to kill became something _else, _something that _burned_ with an ancient and terrible power. The Death Eater shook in fear, wanting to run, to hide, to be _forgiven_.

This would be how it all ended, he was sure. This girl would scour all who oppose her from the face of the earth, no quarter given to those who had harmed her and hers. He didn't want to die. So, Barty Crouch got on his hands and knees and begged for his life. He did not want to _Burn_.

A small, faintly glowing hand folded around his forearm, over the Dark Mark. He screamed in an agony worse than one of the Dark Lord's torture curses. The filthy Mark was wiped off and replaced with a burn scar in the shape of a wolf's paw print.

"_I am the big Bad Wolf,"_ she said softly, but it still hurt his ears. _"I set you free. Do not make me regret it, Barty. Now, run. Run, and never stop."_ Her voice was Forever, Eternal, Ancient.

Bartemius Crouch Junior turned tail and ran. Never once did he stop. He saw the world – he saw its beauty. To the Wizards, he was dead. The Bad Wolf swept over the Wizarding World and, just as he had predicted, burned the taint from it. The Dark Lord had unleashed a great and terrible and _merciful_ force upon all of them. Crouch, however, took no part in the magical world ever again.

The Bad Wolf had spared him, after all.

**A/N: There we are. A drabble. It'd be good to get all these silly drabble-like ideas out of my way.**

**If you've Followed me, Thanks! ;]**

**K9**


	2. Chapter 2

**Aven Potter – Taken by ?**

Perhaps she just couldn't be normal, Aven thought, tears leaking down her face. She tried and tried and tried, but these _things_ just kept happening! Dudley's raucous laughter echoed through Number Four, amused by whatever was on the telly. The loved child – perhaps just as abused as she was, when Aven thought on it. But that didn't matter. Not when her injuries pulled and ached uncomfortably after a bad day. Not when Aven's stomach tried to devour itself due to the lack of food. Not when her mind decided that this was _enough_.

She must have fallen asleep, sitting in a foetal position. Her cupboard door creaked slowly open, waking her. Dried tears made her face feel dirty, but her eyes were locked on the growing sliver of faint light. A pale, long fingered hand was on the top of the door, its twin resting near the bottom corner. "W-Who . . . " Static, sounding faintly like a gentle 'shhh' made her fall silent again.

A thin, pale face – without eyes, without a mouth, without a nose, and without ears – descended as a soft nearly inaudible thump told her this being knelt. A _third_ pale hand extended towards her, palm up, an offering. _**Come. With. Me?**_rumbled through her mind. Aven hesitated. . . But what could be worse than Number Four? _**I. Will. Not. Harm. You,**_ it said almost gently. She let her hand – quavering with weakness that permeated her entire body due to years of abuse and malnutrition – fall into its. _His._

And he took her away, keeping his word. Aven was happy. She played with the other children with similar stories as her own. She was _happy_ for the first time in her young life. Hopefully it would stay that way, hmm?

**END NOTE:** Yes. I had Slender Man take femHP. So sue me. I have too many gorram plunnies populating my brain right now. I'm also trying to finish typing up the next chapter of Zenku, but so far, I'm _maybe_ halfway. Sorry, to those of you eagerly awaiting the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Camellia Potter – Ordinary **_ Avengers Crossover_

_Set During the Avengers Movie_

Agent Hill didn't think much of the Potter girl before the entire Loki incident. Before that she was just an average technician, who looked average, acted average, and seemed almost completely ordinary compared to the more extraordinary people that Hill knew and knew of.

And then Hill got to witness something extraordinary from the 'ordinary' woman. When the Helicarrier came under attack, all Potter did was stand up and move out of the room. Thing was, Hill could have sworn a faint silver light refracted around the woman, so she followed, suspicious.

Potter led Hill to the hangar, and watched the Hulk throw around Thor like a rag doll for a short time. A sharp whistle from Potter drew the Hulk's attention, and it stared at her with acid green eyes. Before the not-so-ordinary woman could say anything, one of the many offensive planes took a shot at the big guy. Lucky for the pilot, Potter whistled again as he was pulling away, as the Hulk was charging. Almost immediately, Hulk stopped, turned, looked at the woman who called him like a pet.

"_Sit._" Hill startled at the sibilant and melodic whisper from Potter – nothing like the woman's usual rougher voice. The Hulk plopped heavily onto the floor and Potter moved on, Hill trailing after her.

CP-O

Fury looked at Potter flatly, but she merely stared back blankly. The other Avengers – Thor, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton – looked between the two, curiosity and nervousness obvious.

"And _when_, exactly, where you planning on telling me that you had abilities to rival that of Loki's?" Fury finally demanded.

"Never," Potter replied bluntly. Before Fury could start a tirade, she continued. "If people have faith in me – why can't I repay it and have faith in them? If I step into every one of your fights, of your petty problems, you'll become lazy, you'll become reliant on my power. It's why it was taken away from the vast majority of the Oh-So-Great Human Race," she stated.

"What do you mean, if people have faith in you? What power?" Fury demanded steadily.

"All legends are based on fact. So, why are there always stories of Magic? If there was Magic, it would surely be here now, yes?" Potter replied, an almost-taunting smirk curling her lips. A ripple of understanding ran through those present.

"This is what became of the _**Seiðr**_?" Thor inquired, "They became too reliant upon the Gift, and you took it away?"

Potter shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, no, not me. My Predecessor. I may be two hundred years old, but I am not old enough to gift or take magic from a living being. A dead one, yes, but life is _so_ much more complicated," she almost drawled.

In the end, SHIELD received no answers – neither did the Asguardians, for that matter. No one had any answers as to _who_ or _what_ Potter really was, except herself, and she was not giving that out anytime soon. Just as well, because she vanished not long later, as if she had never existed. Hill didn't remember her. Fury and the Avengers team did, but only just. They _knew_ of her, but they knew nothing _about_ her.

From far above, Magic looked down upon the world which she – in her past lives – had sown life, and smiled, confidant that, one day, they would get it right, and everything would be better for it. She had every confidance that they would succeed – they always found a way, after all. But, just in case, she would watch over them from afar.

-END-

**AN: So. Yeah. She was the embodiment of Magic, born in the 1800's, which is roughly the time period that the Wizarding World was stuck in. A reincarnation of the embodiment of Magic, to be more specific. A little bit inspired by Inuyasha, the Bad Wolf&/TARDIS from Doctor Who, and my own opinions on deities and why they don't bother us, if they even exist.**

**On a side note, the camellia flower means perfection and gratitude.**

**This isn't my best, and I think it shows. Sorry.**

**ZENKU READERS, I'm sorry it hasn't been updated yet. I'm cutting and adding things as I write to the next chapter of it, so. . . Things might be tweaked into a different direction than what I was intending when I first started, so a few things may not match up perfectly when it finally **_**is**_** posted.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Lantana Potter – The Girl Who Cried Wolf**_ Supernatural Crossover_

_Have you ever dreamt a whole life, and then woke to disappointment?_

Dean and Sam looked at Gabriel in worry as a monstrous black wolf slunk into the room, eyes gleaming viciously as it looked at the startled gods.

"You dare bring it _here_?" Kali snapped angrily, gesturing fiercely at the wolf. Gabriel gave a condescending smirk. "Of _course_ I dare. Hróðvitnir, come. Show our _friends_ how you look in a guise."

Sam inhaled sharply, eyes locked on the wolf as it gave a sickening _shift_, morphing into a young-looking woman with mottled red-and-black- hair and shining emerald eyes. She wore a dark purple dress, black skulls decorating the lolita-like clothing; heavy black boots clunked softly as she continued walking towards her 'father'. Scars adorned her body like badges of honour.

Hróðvitnir stood tall – even though she appeared small and vulnerable, by human standards. Disdain was visible for those in the room, and the hunters were unsure of what to think. "What god is she, Sammy?" Dean hissed as quietly as he could. "Hróðvitnir is also known better as Fenrir – the demon wolf offspring of Loki," Sam murmured in reply, "They're supposed to eat Odin at the end of the world." The Wolf looked at the pair of hunters, her smirk still dancing on her lips.

It wasn't until after Lucifer killed Gabriel that Hróðvitnir approached the pair of hunters, her eyes downcast. "What do you want, uh, Fenrir?" Dean demanded, holding up a hand to stay Bobby's gun.

"He killed Gabriel." There was poison in her voice, rough as it was. "You knew Loki was Gabriel?" Sam asked in curiosity. Hróðvitnir scoffed derisively. "Of course I did. I'm . . . I wasn't like _them_. He treated me like his daughter. Loki _was_ my father – so was Gabriel. I want Lucifer to _pay_."

The hunters exchanged looks, but Bobby was the one who spoke up. "Alright, kid. What do you know about hunting?" "I was born a _wolf_, Mister Singer. I was born a hunter."

Hróðvitnir seemed to have none of Gabriel's more annoying habits – cruel pranks or excessive candy consumption – but seemed to be more like an odd combination of Dean and Castiel. She was cold and indifferent at the best of times, angry and growling and the worst. She even had the same confusion over humans that Cas did.

"I can understand why people do bad things," Hróðvitnir protested when that was pointed out, "I just don't understand why the do _good_ things. What gives them motivation to do so? Every human I have so far met has had an ulterior motive, usually greed, to spurn them towards doing the bad things."

"Well, why did you want to help us?" Dean replied. "I want Lucifer to die," she stated blandly, "It was not out of the goodness of my heart – if I even have one." Dean pouted faintly, but nodded in understanding.

"Okay. Uh. People sometimes do good things just because that's how they are – or how they've been taught. Others do it out of duty. Sometimes they do good things to get on people's good sides, to make them believe they aren't bad when they really are. Like some angels – they try to act like they're on the good side, but, to humans they are basically on the same side as demons. Other angels, like Cas, do what they believe is right, because that's how their father taught them. Understand?" he asked hopefully. Hróðvitnir started to nod, then shook her head. "I don't think I do." Dean drooped slightly, but then nodded again.

"It's fine that you don't understand. Sometimes, I don't either. You should know – sometimes people are good and bad. It's rare that someone is completely good or completely evil. That's what being human is: Finding out who you really are. It's lonely and depressing, most of the time, but cling to the happy moments you have. Especially if they involve people you care for." Dean would never admit to anyone that he had given Fenrir 'Chick-Advice', but he could tell that she was starting to understand.

"I wasn't born Hróðvitnir," the wolf suddenly said. Dean gave her a curious look. "I was born human. I don't know when, but I lived in a place called Surrey with humans called the Dursleys. My aunt, uncle, and cousin. I lived there until I died, and I was given the choice to help Gabriel – by becoming Hróðvitnir. I still don't know why I chose what I did. I don't think I accomplished the task I was set to, because I did not understand how to be a 'Good Person'. A wolf is not a human, and has a harder time feeling what a human does. I . . . _miss_ Gabriel. I want him to come back."

The hunter was startled to see tears shining in Fenrir's eyes. He distantly realized that Gabriel would have been the first person she had lost in such a way. Uncertainly, Dean wrapped an arm around Fenrir's shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. And he truly was. "I wish he wasn't stupid enough to get himself killed for us – we shouldn't have been stupid enough to get caught by those guys. From here on, it will probably get worse before it gets any better. All we can do is get in the way of what's gonna happen and hope that other people don't have to go through what we do."

Hróðvitnir chortled softly, bitterness seeping into her. "Of course." After a while, Dean stood up, to let Hróðvitnir have time alone.

"Dean?" He glanced back at the wolf, raising an eyebrow. "My name. It was Lantana. Lantana Potter."

"It's good to meet you, Lantana Potter," he replied, lips quirking up into a smile. Maybe they would get lucky and survive the coming storm. He was glad to have her on his side, in any case.

**AN: Lantana is actually a flower. All of my femPotters have a flower/plant related name.**

**Yeah. This idea's been swirling around for some time, too. Not quite what I wanted, but it works to get it out of my head for now. A certain review for Zenku has left me unmotivated thus far as to typing it up. So, you Readers will probably get more chapters of Plunnie Farm than of Zenku or of Jaq's Storyline. . . If I can find a way around campus net blocking Fanfiction. IF YOU GUYS HAVE IDEAS YOU WANT ME TO TRY OUT, SUGGEST THEM, OKAY?**

**K9**


	5. The Assassin and the Hero - HPAvengers

_HP/Avengers_

_Aster: patience, protection from evil, love  
Orchid: love, luxury, beauty, strength_

_**The Assassin and the Hero**_

Hazel eyes met toxic green.

"You're dead," the Black Widow stated. Toxic green fell to the floor. The gathered group of men – Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, and Nick Fury – all watched the nearly identical pair.

"I know. . . Orchid. . . It's not your fault, you know that, right?" the darker haired of the two said softly, an earnest expression on her face.

While they were twins, Aster had always been more open. She was also the planner of the two, the brains one could say. Or she had been, over twenty years ago.

"Orchid?" Tony stark muttered to Clint, who shrugged faintly.

'Orchid' frowned. "I _killed_ you."

"_Orchid! Come on, this is our only chance!" A hand fell on a younger Black Widow's shoulder. The Black Widow spun around, twisting the offending appendage painfully. Aster flinched in surprise and pain. _

"_Orchid?" A large knife came up, then sank through the side of the brunette's neck. Toxic eyes widened in absolute shock. Hazel eyes stared unseeingly at the twin as she fell to the ground, a soft gurgling emitting from her throat. Orchid watched as Aster, her twin sister and fellow assassin-in-training, died._

"You did."

A snort escaped Tony Stark. "If she killed you, honey, you wouldn't be here now." Green and hazel eyes gave the billionaire identical glares. He put up his hands in defeat, telling them he wouldn't continue.

"Is she a threat, Romanov?" Fury demanded.

"Romanov?" Aster questioned softly.

"Me. Natasha Romanov. I'm not Orchid anymore, sister," the Black Widow stated coolly. Aster looked away, revealing a thick scar on the side of her neck – old, but still clearly visible. She always did like to keep physical memories of who she was, for some reason. . . She had promised to explain why when they had escaped. . .

Natasha shook her head slightly.

"I've been looking for you for _years_, sister. You always were better at hiding than I was. Always hiding behind different masks so easily. . ." Aster trailed off, a slight broken tone to her voice.

"Romanov!" Fury barked. The red-haired of the two looked at the Director.

"No, sir, she is not a threat to us. I suggest we do add her to the Avengers, however." Natasha hesitated a brief moment. "I was only able to kill her because she trusted me with her life."

"You were the subtle one, sister. The true assassin," Aster said softly, a weak smile on her lips and eyes shining with both pride and sadness.

Hazel met toxic green.

"And you were always the perfect hero."

**AN: Yeah. Might be elaborated on later. Might not be. Gist is, Natasha and my FemHarry are twin sisters. Natasha was forced to kill Aster, only she didn't die for whatever reason – probably advanced regeneration or some such, as she's the 'soldier' of the two. Anyway, I'm working on Feathers, a chapter or two should be up in the next week at most.**


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